


Nakia/T'Challa Tumblr Prompts

by fallenleeft



Category: Black Panther (2018)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-03-23
Packaged: 2019-03-26 20:10:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13865130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fallenleeft/pseuds/fallenleeft
Summary: A collection of Nakia and T'Challa tumblr prompts.





	1. Beautiful.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "How about a one shot with Nakia and T’Challa meeting for the first time as, kids?"

The week before T’Challa’s tenth birthday, his mother had sent him off in search of the meaning of the word ‘beautiful’, the deadline being the day of his birthday itself.

“I know what it means, Mama,” he had scoffed. “It means pretty.” His mother had shook her head and told him to go and find another meaning.

And search he did. For the next few days, after his lessons had finished for the day, he spent most of his time in both the public library and the palace library, dictionaries and books upon books of classic English and Wakandan literatures laid out in front of him. Not that he understood even a quarter of the things he read, but whenever he found a new definition of the word, he would go to his mother and read it out to her, all from his superb memory.

“No, T’Challa,” his mother would say in their native tongue, Xhosa. “Go back and keep searching.”

This mission his mother had sent him off proved to be a distraction for him from all his birthday preparations. While he never truly cared much for his birthday celebrations (as they often reminded him of what he had and what other children did not and it made him feel guilty), he was ever-curious of what new things would be bestowed upon him by his parents as they had promised him that each new year, the older he got, the more things he would learn and be privy to.

“As preparation for you to be King in the future, my son,” explained his father when T’Challa had asked him once.

The day before his birthday, his mother still not satisfied enough with whatever meaning he found of the word ‘beautiful’, W’Kabi had finally joined him in the public library, sitting down relaxedly beside him with his legs stretched out in front of him, watching curiously as his friend concentrated on completing his assignment, sitting cross-legged with his tongue sticking out while he held a large, thick book (that looked to be about five hundred pages long) in his lap.

“Can’t you just ask someone else to find it for you?” asked W’Kabi exasperatedly. “You are the Prince, you know.”

“I can’t, W’Kabi,” T’Challa replied, eyebrows furrowed, eyes still glued on his book. “No shortcuts for a King.”

“I said you are the Prince, not the King. Give it a break, T’Challa. Your birthday is tomorrow!”

“So?” T’Challa asked offhandedly.

“So you should be having fun!” exclaimed W’Kabi, soon after receiving a stern hush from a passing librarian. “Sorry,” he said meekly.

When T’Challa did not reply, W’Kabi had finally had enough and slammed the book shut without permission, earning an indignant yell from his royal friend. 

“We are going,” he said seriously, looking T’Challa in the eye. “I have been wanting to play with you for days, but you’ve been in the library reading books!”

“I need to find it, W’Kabi!”

Letting out a sigh of annoyance, W’Kabi yanked him up by the hand and led him out of the library, deftly ignoring the scathing looks thrown by the librarians, all the while grumbling about “stubborn princes” and “being kids and having fun”.

To say he was curious as to where W’Kabi was taking him was an understatement. Judging by the direction they were going in, past the path that led to the Border Village (where he had assumed his friend was going to take him), there was nowhere else he could think of going to. The places they usually occupied were the fields of the Border Village or the various parks scattered throughout the Golden City, but at this time of the day, a little late in the afternoon, schoolchildren littered the parks like there was no tomorrow.

When he had finally inquired about their destination, his best friend barked out a laugh.

“Now that is a surprise!”

The surprise turned out to be the river that ran along the River Village. T’Challa had only come here once before, two years ago, with his father when the man had insisted on bringing him around Wakanda to get to know each of its inhabitants. The River Tribe and their village were the last they visited that day. Needless to say, even while only having seen it once before, the river was still as majestic as he remembered.

When he looked further up, however, he was mesmerised by how _beautiful_ the sight before him was. _He froze_.

At the very edge of the river sat a young girl around their age, feet idly splashing the cold water, clothed in green garments that could only belong to the River Tribe. Her short, curly strands of afro hair was cute, he thought. Promptly, he blushed crimson red when he realised he was staring. Open-mouthed. Thankfully though, a quick glance towards W’Kabi told him that his friend did not even seem to notice his brief moment of unprofessionalism.

“-Nakia, a new friend I made while you were holed up in the library!” declared his friend enthusiastically. 

When he glanced back towards the girl, Nakia, she was walking up towards them with a smirk on her face. All his relief was dashed in that second. _She knew_.

“Hello,” she said, voice strong and sure. None of that high-pitched voice girls tended to adopt when talking to him, the Prince.

“Uh, h-hi.” Maybe he was the one with the high-pitched voice this time around.

“Nakia,” she said by way of introducing herself. He also felt as if she said, “because I know you were not listening to W’Kabi a moment ago.”

“Yes,” he nodded dumbly. W’Kabi snickered. 

“You are supposed to tell her your name, are you not?” He glared at his friend before turning back towards the girl.

“T’Challa,” he said weakly. “My name is T’Challa.”

“I know, Prince T’Challa,” laughed Nakia. “Everyone knows who you are.”

“Oh.” T’Challa scratched his head, hoping that he would somehow walk into a tree and lose all his memory of this encounter. 

W’Kabi, after a moment of assessing his friend, announced that the three of them should sit together by the river and get to know one another. Or better yet, play until they had to go home. Nakia agreed while T’Challa went along with them silently.

That night, just as he was about to sleep, his mother entered his room and sat down at the end of his bed, shooting him looks of curiosity.

“Are you not going to tell me what new meaning you found today, T’Challa?” she inquired.

He sighed. Suddenly, after meeting the River Tribe girl earlier today, the word ‘beautiful’ had taken up a whole new meaning for him that no literature book or dictionary could have ever taught him. 

“Beautiful knows no bounds, Mama,” he said profoundly. “You want to look at them all the time, but you cannot because something bad will happen if you keep staring at them.” At that, he suddenly blushed. Even without the light, she could make out the faint traces of red on his cheeks.

She grinned. This was an incident she needed to know of. Regardless, she still made sure to correct her son. “Not all the time, my son. Sometimes seeing something beautiful is a good thing. It makes you happy,” she said. “When I saw you for the first time, I was so happy I cried. Your father too, when all the doctors and guests had left and it was only the three of us.”

They shared a smile before he kissed her goodnight and went to sleep, a small smile playing on his lips as he sighed happily.

When she left her son’s room, Ramonda summoned one of the Doras that was assigned to follow T’Challa and keep him safe. “What happened today?” 

“He met a girl from the River Tribe, Your Highness, while he was out playing with the Border Tribe boy.”

The two women shared a knowing smile. A beautiful thing was happening in Wakanda and were they glad to be witnessing it first-hand.


	2. Terrified.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "How did T’Challa ask Nakia out? Or is it the other way around?"

Was T’Challa nervous? No, he was not, despite the obvious shaking of his limbs and sweaty palms. Was he scared? Absolutely not, the rapid beating of his heart and the ringing in his ears were no concern. Was he terrified? He would say no, not at all. He was fine. Hundred percent good and ready to go.

As he looked around the clearing on the cliff, his thoughts wandered back to the events that had happened earlier that day. Basically, he had expressed his desire to date - court - Nakia to his family and closest friends. His father had clapped him hard on the back with a proud grin. His mother had practically glowed and smiled a smile that was one million-carat bright. Okoye had given him a knowing grin and the rest of the Dora Milaje had cheered and laughed and congratulated him and wished him good luck.

His baby sister, Shuri? Oh, she was the worst one.

To put it in simple terms, Shuri had ran around the Palace screaming to everyone at the top of her lungs that he was going to ask Nakia out. That was not the worst of it, however. The worst part was the fact that a council meeting was in session, and her screaming was loud enough for the Tribal Council and everyone else to hear. He had fought tooth and nail to get her to keep quiet. Afterwards, when the Council was dismissed, each of the Elders had smiled at him knowingly, with the River Tribe Elder nodding conspiratorially at him as well.

Nakia had no idea any of this was going on.

It was one of the lowest moments he had had to endure in all of his twenty or so years, but T’Challa was nothing if not a determined man, and he was not going to let the embarrassment get to him and ruin his plans.

So here he was, standing near the edge of his favourite cliff, waiting patiently for Nakia to come. He had disclosed nothing of his intention to her, merely asking her to come and meet him on the cliff like they always did every night. He was not going to lie, it was only a matter of time before he decided to do something about his longtime attraction towards her. The only thing that held him back was their good rapport and friendship; he loathed to ruin whatever they had with one another. However, after Okoye and W’Kabi went off on tirades on how his feelings were mutual and that she was attracted to him just as much as he was to her day after day, he finally caved.

The rustling of the grass behind him alerted him to a presence, and when he turned around, the sight that greeted him never got old and made him more appreciative of it everyday. 

Nakia, clothed in a simple pale green dress that hung down just below her knees, walked up to him slowly, a small smile gracing her lips. She walked with that same sense of assuredness she always had with her, confident, but a long time of having spent time with her gave him the impression that something was bothering her, like there was a nervous energy inside of her and she just wanted to get it out. So he waited until she stood in front of him, until she took his hand and sat him down next to her, their knees pressed together, until she inhaled deeply and said her piece.

“Hello,” she started, her smile now wavering just the slightest bit.

“Hello,” he echoed, wondering if she noticed his jittery limbs and sweaty hands. Or how his voice cracked. That too.

“So,” she said eloquently. “Anything interesting happened today?”

“No,” he said quickly, far too quickly. His heart rate started picking up again and he felt as if he was about to vomit. Had she heard from someone what had transpired in the Palace earlier?

Nakia hummed. “Hm, me neither.”

T’Challa refrained from letting out a sigh of relief. Maybe tonight could go smoothly as planned. First, however, he needed to know what was bothering her. “Is something wrong, Nakia?”

Her smile vanished and she turned and looked everywhere but him. His eyes darted around her face, and he was surprised to see a fleeting look of nervousness flash across of it. Something was horribly wrong and his stomach churned at the thought of whatever it was that was making her that way. His Nakia was so sure of herself, so indestructible. Even when she fell, she always rose up again. He had seen her cry, had held her and comforted her during her worst moments, but this? Nervousness was not something acquainted to her.

“Nakia,” he said again, grasping her smaller hand tightly in his. “What is wrong?”

Finally, as if the touch brought her back, she looked at him and closed her eyes shut. Just as he was about to say something again, now seriously concerned, she beat him to it. 

“I wish to go on a date with you, T’Challa.”

His eyes widened, unprecedented. That was not what he expected to hear. He vaguely saw her opening her eyes and regarding him carefully, guarded and walls up to protect herself in case he rejected her and turned her away.

Who in their right mind would turn away this amazing woman, so full of love and hope? Certainly not him. Only problem was that while she was the most amazing woman he had ever met, she was also extremely good at ruining his plans, almost as if she was an expert at it. This was not how he imagined this night to turn out.

Nakia opened her mouth, about to cover herself, he was sure, but he sighed and released her hand, rubbing his face wearily. “Why is it that every time I make plans concerning you, you go ahead and turn them into something else entirely?” he asked, looking at her with a small smile, assuring her that he was not actually bothered by it. “I have planned this night for days and here you are, ruining it for me.”

“You were going to ask me?” she gasped, laughing a little. “Of course you were. Don’t think I did not notice how sweaty your hands are, or how you mumbled to yourself while you were ‘waiting for me’. I was here before you arrived, you know, but I could not help but observe you. I knew something was up,” she admitted sheepishly. T’Challa chuckled. He should have known. 

“And I also know of what happened today at the Palace.”

He groaned and fell backwards onto the grass. Nakia laughed and leaned over him, pressing a kiss on his cheek.

Okay, he was terrified. Sometimes, however, being terrified was a good thing, and he was glad for it.


	3. Hurt.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Nakia gets hurt on a mission."

There were very few things that got his heart beating to inhuman levels. There were very few things that could make him curse left and right. There were very, very few things that could cause him to lose his head, and unfortunately, this was one of them.

At present, T’Challa and Nakia were on a covert mission in Thailand, his father having encouraged him to go so as to get a glimpse of what their War Dogs had to experience, and assigning Nakia to go with him to help guide him navigate through the murky waters of spying. He certainly knew how to spy - he had learnt from some of the best covert operatives they had, Nakia included - but that was all theoretical. Going on an actual covert operation was something else entirely and he was glad he had Nakia by his side for his first one.

That in itself was a blessing and a curse.

The blessing was for the very same reason she was there, to assist him and be a pillar of support and strength for him, and to make sure that all went smoothly and nothing went awry. The curse was that in the case that she was hurt, he would be there to witness it all, and he was not sure if he could restrain himself from killing the one responsible, as was what was happening now.

Hiding out in the storage room at the back of a pub, graciously offered to them by the owner herself, Nakia sat on a wooden table completely worse for wear, a cut on her cheek and a deep gash on her leg. Upon further inspection, he discovered a dislocated shoulder too, when he had asked her to move her arm and she had moaned painfully at the slightest bit of movement. He shook his head and continued pouring some of the alcohol the pub owner gave on the torn bit of his shirt he was using to clean her up. 

“You don’t have to do this,” mumbled Nakia into the silence. “I can do it myself.”

“I know,” T’Challa said softly in Xhosa as he gently dabbed at her cheek, smiling a little at her hiss of pain. “But humour me, will you?”

His beloved sighed, but nodded anyway, letting him continue patching her up. To his credit, he managed to hold himself back from going after her injurer, only because she needed medical attention immediately and it would not have looked good to his father and the Council if they reported back to him that he had taken a life simply because they had hurt Nakia.

So engrossed in his thoughts was he that he did not even notice his body shaking as one hand gripped Nakia’s thigh and the other held her leg out for him to see. Only when her smaller hand wrapped over his on her leg did he even realise he was shaking, his anger barely concealed at the thought of her injured because of some lowlife assailant they encountered in the middle of Thailand. 

“Hey,” she whispered soothingly. “It’s okay. I’m alive. You’re alive. That is what matters. Soon, we will be able to go home and get some time to ourselves. We completed our mission, T’Challa. You did amazing.” She smiled and released his hand. He nodded, eyes closed and nose flaring as he tried to get his breathing under control, and gently put her leg down. He laid his hands on the table on either side of her and touched his forehead to hers.

“Not good enough,” he disagreed shakily as Nakia reached up and caressed his cheek. “I was so focused on that other man that I did not notice you were hurt. I realised too late.”

“Stop it,” she commanded sternly, hitting his cheek lightly. She huffed in annoyance, pulling her head back. “Really, what is it with men thinking women need protecting all the time? We can protect ourselves!”

“This is not about me thinking you need protecting. I know you can protect yourself. But you were hurt, Nakia. It pains me to see you hurt,” he said quietly, looking down at the floor. 

She sighed. “And I know that, too. In this line of work, I can get hurt anytime, my love. You know that.”

“But that does not stop me from worrying.”

“I know,” she replied, leaning over and kissing him sweetly on the lips. “No amount of your coddling will stop me from loving you, my Prince.”

“Just admit it, you love it when I coddle you,” he said, a hint of a smile on his lips.

“Maybe a little,” she admitted with a grin, effectively distracting him from his anger and worry when she pressed her lips to him again, this time more heated and passionate than the last. He almost forgot she was hurt in the first place. Almost.


	4. Sheets.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A slow, cuddly morning in Wakanda. T'Challa's the worst in the morning.

The barest rays of sunlight peeked through the blinds of the bedroom, brightening the dark room slightly with a bit of natural light. The white sheets on the left side of the bed rustled with movement of someone stirring from slumber. A slender hand appeared and gripped the edges, pushing the sheets away, slowly revealing a feminine figure in off-white nightwear. Nakia sat up, sheets still bunched up in her lap, and stretched, yawning widely, though she had enough decency even in her foggy state to cover her mouth with her hands. 

Though she had no pressing matter to attend to in the morning, she was a creature of habit and woke with the sun. It was a habit she had developed while training to become a War Dog and no matter how hard she tried, she just could not seem to break out of the habit. So, she learned to live with it. Although she rose early, she learned quickly that her beloved King of Wakanda did not and would only wake early if there was business he had to attend. Otherwise, he would wake just in the nick of time for breakfast, which she knew annoyed the Queen Mother greatly. 

Even though Nakia found this particular trait of T’Challa amusing albeit irritating at times, she still made sure to be extra quiet while getting ready for the day, lest she woke him. She knew how hard he worked and just how taxing it was on him. As the soon-to-be-Queen, it was her duty to support him. Scratch that, it was her duty to support him even as just a friend and a constant presence in his life. When he would retire to their room after a hard day, difficult council meetings, or just a bad day for no particular reason, she was there to meet him and offer her warmth and comfort. 

So deep in thought was she that she did not notice the barest flicker of a hand skimming across her back, as though inviting her to lie back down on the mattress. Only when the hand found its way to a sensitive spot on her lower back did she jolt (rather violently) out of her thoughts and directed her attention to the individual behind her, lying on his side under the sheets and face buried in his pillow, eyes still closed but hand hovering around her back. Nakia pursed her lips and shook her head, taking the hand in her own and pinching it, emanating an indiscernible sound from the hand’s owner, voice slightly muffled by the pillow. 

“T’Chaallaaa,” she drawled, still holding the hand. “That’s not a way to greet your fiancée good morning, is it?”

“Neither is yours,” came the groggy reply.

Nakia tsked. “Is that all?”

“Lie back down, Nakia,” said T’Challa, now turning to look at her, eyes blinking blearily against the morning light. The sight was so cute and endearing that she suddenly had the urge to kiss him, as aggravating as he was quickly becoming. 

“I have work to do.” He looked at her straight-faced and she did the same in return. They both knew it was a lie. Finally, she sighed and leaned down, kissing his cheek. “If I lie with you, we will not get up until breakfast,” she said, frowning a little at the notion. 

“That’s the idea,” he chuckled sleepily. 

“If we both come down late, what will the others think? They will think we had intercourse in the morning and-”

“We sleep together, Nakia,” interjected T’Challa. “They know already.” 

Nakia blushed, but said nothing. T’Challa, having grown tired of their little banter in the early morning, wrapped his free arm around her waist and pulled her down beside him, emitting a surprised yelp from her. She hit him lightly on the shoulder even while adjusting to comfortably lie on her side facing him. “You do that every morning!” 

“You wake up early every morning,” he said matter-of-factly, pulling her even closer against his bare chest. She held up both her hands against his chest, not wanting to give in easily. 

“T’Challa,” she warned, though without much element of threat. “We will be late.”

T’Challa hummed, closing his eyes and leaning over to nuzzle his face into the crook of her neck. Alas, his affections were much too hard for her to resist as proven when her hands slipped behind his neck, a soft content sigh escaping her lips. She felt his lips curve into a smile as he kissed her collarbone and trailed his way up her neck, leaving soft kisses in his wake. She had long ago discovered that fighting his ministrations would only prove to be useless, and so she gave in completely, her body sagging against his in a way that moulded them together perfectly.

Nakia yawned, the lull of sleep quickly becoming harder and harder to resist (T’Challa not helping, at all). She vaguely registered T’Challa pulling the sheets up to cover her, and after a peck on her lips, pressed his mouth to the shell of her ear. 

“Sleep, my Queen. A late breakfast is no harm to anyone.” 

Nakia nodded, nestling herself further into his embrace. For once, she allowed herself to have this treat. Just this once. Tomorrow, she would make sure that the sheets are made as soon as she got up. No more temptations. No more T’Challa coaxing her into bed again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, finally able to update! I've been busy with school and also a writer's block decided to rear its ugly head. Wrote this in a half-asleep delirium, so if anything's off and just plain weird, sorry about that! :P Thanks for reading! <3


End file.
